


The Punishment

by iamisaac



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Toys, Teacher/Student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamisaac/pseuds/iamisaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has disobeyed Severus's orders. This requires a sharp lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Punishment

Draco Malfoy had been forbidden to wank for three days. 

Draco Malfoy wasn’t very good at doing as he was told.

Draco Malfoy was, however, a good liar. 

Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy was trying to lie to possibly the most gifted legilimens alive.

“You haven’t touched yourself?” Snape asked, looking sharply at him.

“No, Professor.”

“No?”

Draco looked up at Snape with guileless grey eyes. “You told me not to,” he said innocently.

“Yes,” said Snape thoughtfully. “I did.” 

He turned back to his work, marking a set of 6th year parchments. Draco took a sudden breath of gasping relief: he’d got away with it. And then another sort of gasp, as he found himself on his knees with Snape’s mind probing through his. And finding… oh dear, yes, that:

_Draco on his back in his bed, the curtains charmed shut around him, a silencing spell on them. His hand round his cock, his hips thrusting through the loose fist faster and faster. His back arched, his eyes half-closed, soft desperate moans emanating from his mouth…_

“You, Draco Malfoy, are a liar.”

Draco’s breathing was a bit unsteady. Merlin, that had been such a _good_ wank too; he was hard again just thinking about it. He’d been imagining Snape’s fingers round him, Snape’s piercing eyes focusing on him with that slightly glazed look they only got sometimes when…

The slap brought him back to the moment. He looked up guiltily at Snape, who had caught him high on one cheekbone.

“I told you the consequences of disobeying, I think?”

“Yes, sir.” Draco looked down. Snape had warned him that the punishment would be severe for breaking his promise. And the Professor always followed through.

“Disrobe, then come here and bend over the desk.”

Draco obeyed, somewhat unwillingly. Some punishments he preferred to others. Whilst being spanked by Snape was… could be… quite a turn on, the whippy cane his teacher sometimes used was painful. Last time, Draco had been unable to sit without a cushioning charm for almost a week.

“Spread your legs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Now _that_ sounded more hopeful. Was Snape going to fuck him, after all? Draco’s heart skipped a little faster as he moved his legs further apart. He felt the gentle probing of a wand, and made a small noise of encouragement in his throat.

“Silence,” ordered Snape.

But instead of Snape’s cock, there was a peculiar feeling as something hard penetrated him. It hurt a little bit; Snape was not bothering to make it pleasant for him, but as it filled him up, Draco had to bite his lips around another moan. Finally, it was fully inserted, as far as it went; the end nestled outside his arsehole.

“You will keep that in until I take it out,” Snape said coldly. “Turn around.” Draco obeyed, and Snape Summoned another object with a swish of his wand. “Hold your cock up out of the way.” 

Again, Draco obeyed; and Snape pushed a metal object around his testicles, holding them away from the body, snapping the cuff shut.

“W-what’s that?” Draco asked. 

The feeling of stretch on his testicles was both pleasant and unpleasant; it made him feel horny but unable to do much about it.

“A testicle cuff. It should prevent you coming.” Snape smiled at Draco’s disappointed face. “Believe me, Draco, you will be grateful to me for my forethought shortly.”

Draco rather doubted that, but it was not the moment to say so. “Yes, sir. Is… is that all?”

A butt plug and a testicle cuff – punishment enough, but not as bad as Draco had feared.

“Not quite. You may dress, and then follow me to your Year Eight Potions lesson.”

“Yes sir.”

Draco obeyed, and followed Snape down to the dungeon in which the lesson took place. They were ten minutes early, and no one else had arrived.

“Am I to sit in my usual place?” Draco asked.

“Oh no,” said Snape softly, his mouth twisting up in some private amusement. “No. You will stand there – in the corner of the room.”

“What?”

“Take off your robes, Draco,” Snape said. “You knew you were to be punished, did you not?”

“Y-yes sir.” 

Was Snape really intending to make Draco stand at the front of the class, dressed only in his underwear and various sexual accoutrements? Draco looked appealingly at his Professor: he would never be able to stay at Hogwarts if it were so. Snape had promised to punish him, but surely – surely not this severely? He gave a little sigh of relief as Snape cast a Disillusionment Spell.

“As long as you stay perfectly still, no one will see you,” Snape said. “You will still get the benefit of my lesson, but I hope this will act as a reminder that you are to be obedient to my wishes. Your pleasuring of yourself is not within your agreement with me. You knew this, and you still chose to disobey. Now, you must reap the consequences.”

Draco dropped his head, slightly ashamed. “Yes, sir,” he said humbly.

It was true that no one noticed him. The room filled up with students, and although a couple of people commented on Draco’s absence, they apparently could not see that he was standing in the corner of the room. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

The lesson started normally. Snape was explaining about a particularly complex process needed to strip the leaves from the jasmine plant, in order for it to be fit for use. After a few moments description, he picked up the plant in front of him, and using his wand, stripped a single leaf from it.

Draco jumped. The butt plug had vibrated unexpectedly inside him. A quick look round showed that no one had noticed: everyone’s attention was on what Snape was doing. Another leaf stripped; another vibration. Draco suddenly realised precisely what his lover was doing. There was a connection spell between Snape’s wand and the plug that he had placed inside Draco earlier. Every movement he made with his wand made the plug – oh sweet Merlin, like that – vibrate.

“Is that quite clear to everyone?” Professor Snape asked in his usual clipped tones.

The class mumbled that it was, and got down to the business of stripping the leaves as they had been shown. At which point, Draco discovered precisely how tortuous Snape could be. Every wand – every single wand in the fucking room – when it made the motion required to strip the jasmine leaves, vibrated the plug. After five people had tried, Draco was twitching, his determination to stay still at breaking point as the plug inside him shivered and pushed against him, rubbing his prostate. He was sweating. He was finding it hard to breathe; even harder to breathe softly enough not to be noticed. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his cock was so fucking hard he was going to die. Moving as slowly and carefully as he could, he moved one hand to his mouth so that he could bite down on his fingers to stop himself screaming; the other hand to his aching, throbbing cock. He could feel Snape watching him, knew precisely the little smile that the other man would have on his face. He was in agony. 

And still they stripped those fucking leaves. Pansy Parkinson was having trouble getting the technique right; she asked Snape for his help. Draco, wondering whether it was possible to bite right through one’s own finger, opened his eyes and looked straight into Snape’s black ones as the Professor said:

“Like this,” before deliberately stripping the leaf with a strong firm motion that shot right through Draco.

Draco groaned. He could not help himself. There was an awful moment when someone – Granger, of course: she was always such a know-it-all – stared at him for a second before dropping her eyes. Relieved, Draco knew that the charm had held; he was still (mostly) invisible.

By the end of the lesson, Draco was in agony. He was covered in sweat, and he knew that if it had not been for the testicle cuff that Snape had put on, he would be covered in his own come. Even with the cuff, he was so close – so close –so fucking damn close. The moment the last student had left, and Snape had shut the door, he was on his knees, fisting his cock hard, careless of whether anyone might come back for anything, not caring about anything but how desperate he was. Snape, still smirking, increased the vibration in the plug until Draco was a quivering mess on the floor. There must have been a spell on the cuff too, otherwise Draco must have come by now no matter what; the sensation of being so in need was torturous.

“Please… please…” He didn’t have the mind to articulate the words but he looked up at Snape from the floor, begging – imploring. 

Snape relented. The plug stopped its frustrating vibration, and Snape hauled Draco to his feet, pushing him over the desk, thrusting down his underpants and removing the plug. Draco sighed with relief, but also with frustration: he wanted to be filled; he wanted to come. But Snape was unbuckling his trousers, and after a quick lubricating charm, he pushed inside Draco. Draco thrust back against him, and they rutted faster, faster; Snape’s fingers touched the cuff, and it fell off, and Draco was coming and crying, Snape still thrusting into him over and over as he did so. As Draco’s orgasm faded, Snape thrust more slowly; almost leisurely in his action. Draco lay with his head on the table, exhausted, just enjoying the feeling of Snape filling him. At length, the other man came; then he pulled out, casting a cleaning spell over the area.

“I trust you have learnt your lesson, Draco?” his teacher asked casually, watching as Draco tried to pull what wits he still had back together, and remember how to get dressed.

Draco gave a quick shiver of remembrance. It had been agony. It had been ecstasy. It had been the worst and best fucking hour of his life. He gave Professor Snape a tentative, uncertain smile.

“Yes, sir,” he said.


End file.
